Wartime Wonderland
by PrismBoss
Summary: The game is over. The nightmares of the past have returned to the present, and the Country of Hearts is plunged into the greatest conflict of its history, leaving Alice caught in the crossfire. War has come to Wonderland.


**Hello, everyone! This is the third story I'm planning to upload and focus on before I move on, along with _A Matter of Trust_ and _New January_. Heart no Kuni no Alice is a fandom I'm very new too (The movie was my biggest source of information), having found out about it through a fellow HNKNA author (who may be named at a later date). So, expect the characters to be OOC and be warned that this is going to be a somewhat serious story.**

**Disclaimer: Heart no Kuni no Alice is owned by Quinrose. Any OCs in this story will be claimed at the end AN in the chapters they appear in. Enjoy!**

* * *

**Wartime Wonderland**

**A Heart no Kuni no Alice Fanfic**

**Chapter 1 – Nightmare**

It was raining.

The cold, salty drops poured onto the barren field, blocking any sight beyond a few metres, giving a feeling of isolation. The only sound was the constant rainfall, seemingly unending.

He was dying.

He lay on the ground, made terribly muddy by the rain, but he didn't mind. He could hardly feel it anyway. His body was slowly becoming numb and cold as the ground around him was dyed red. The bullet wound did its work well, but hadn't quite hit its mark. He had hoped for a quick passing, but it had dragged out so long already, all he hoped for now was a painless one.

He could still see his killer though. At least, in his head. In reality, the traitor had left some time ago. He did not know how long. Between the cloudy sky and his slowly ending life, he had not been able to track the time. Not that it mattered now.

But still, he remembered that face. The last words of fake apology, the infuriatingly blank stare as he pulled the trigger. They had been friends, practically brothers. They had promised to protect one another, and he had broken that promise without even flinching.

And then he'd just walked away.

Into the rain. Back to _them_.

They had never cared for him. They had sheltered him, comforted him, even claimed to care for him. They had been through so much, and changed so much. But now, as it turned out, they hadn't changed at all.

They had stuck to their game. Their unending performance.

And he didn't belong in that show anymore.

And that was that.

He stared up at the sky with blurred eyes. As a child, he had always thought the rain was the sky's tears. The thought brought him some small comfort. At least someone was crying for him. Here, at the end.

His eyes felt so tired. Perhaps he would rest, just for a while. Yes. That sounded like a good idea.

He only wished that someone was there with him. He wished he'd been at home. He wished he'd never left.

He wished…

He wished…

"You wish you weren't dying?"

The voice would have startled him if he'd been in any other situation. As it was, he initially dismissed it as a hallucination, brought about by lack of blood. Until he heard the faint sound of wet footsteps and saw a silhouette block out part of the sky.

With what little strength he had, he looked at the figure. He wanted to talk to it, but his throat was too dry and his thoughts too unfocused. But the figure spoke, all the same.

"You're probably wondering who I am." He, as the voice sounded masculine, said. "But, considering what I came here to do, it doesn't matter. Simply know that I am like you, and that I have come to help."

The figure knelt down, and now he could make out a tangle of wild black hair and wide, crazed eyes. Normally, he would have been worried by this, but there were two reasons why this was not so. Firstly, and most obviously, he was going to die, and there was nothing this man, nor anyone else, could do about it. Secondly, as he stared into the shaky, bloodshot eyes, he saw a degree of certainty, like the man had made a decision that he would never go back on.

Another detail captured the dying man's attention. Covering the nose and mouth of the man before him was a plain white mask, with no detail or decoration, held in place with thin straps. The man's eyes gained a degree of amusement. "Ah, so you've noticed my piece." He said, touching the blank mask. "I've had it for a while, but I've never found any of the rest. At least," His hand reached forward. "Until now."

The hand touched the dying man's right eye. _No, _he thought. _I forgot._ What it touched was a grey and black eye covering, decorated with an eye-shaped slit. It had been a gift, a show of friendship from his closest friend. The same friend that had shot him.

"Problem is…" The man retracted his hand and stood. "I don't have the will to use it properly. I've had this part too long, you see." He gestured to his 'piece.' "So I'm gonna have to give it to you. Maybe you can make a difference."

He didn't understand. He was dying, no use to anyone. Why would giving him a mask piece make _any_ difference? Perhaps he had been mistaken. The man was clearly quite mad.

"And that's where another problem arises, I'm afraid." The man raised a long object, and it took the dying man a second to realize it was a strangely shaped sword. "You see, the mask won't let me go very easily. It… likes me." The way the man's eyes squinted then suggested he was smiling. "I'm sorry you had to see this, but…" He raised the sword to his neck, the dying man realizing what was about to happen. "I've gotten tired of this life."

And with a sharp pull, the man slit his own throat.

Blood squirted out of the wound, clearly fatal, drops peppering the ground. It was quick, but the man on the ground knew the standing man could not be saved. The man collapsed, more of the life-force pouring from behind the mask.

He landed flat on the ground, eyes facing the other man. Staring into him, he saw an utter and chilling calm. Then the light faded from them and all that was left was the corpse. He was dead.

He stared into those eyes for a while, forgetting his own situation in the face of the horror of what he'd witnessed. The man had committed suicide for… what? It was then that he noticed the mask had detached itself and now lay in the ground between them. The inside, which faced the sky, had not a speck of blood on it, just the pure, blank white.

This is what the man had killed himself for? So the mask would come off, making it so he could wear it, in the last few minutes he had. It was ridiculous.

So why, with the last of his strength, was he reaching for it?

His arm seemed to move on its own, but he was sure he was moving it. Slowly extending for the mask. It crawled across the red ground, staining the sleeves red. Maybe somewhere deep inside, he thought, maybe, it would save him.

He touched the mask.

The object shivered, and then jumped towards his face. It attached itself firmly, sparks flying between it and the small mask covering his right eye. Then shocks flew through his body, making him shoot into a sitting position, head tilted back, staring into the cloudy sky. A scream tore through him as the shocks concentrated at his wound, increasing the pain tenfold.

And then it was gone and the last echoes of his scream faded in the distance. He stared up at the sky, his only visible eye wide and shaking, his breathing sharp and desperate. He looked down at his side, raising his hand to feel his chest, expecting to find a bullet hole.

But there was no wound.

He was alive.

And he felt… powerful. Not because of the new life he had been given, but because he could feel the raw energy pouring into him from the mask. Energy he could shape. Energy he could use.

He looked down at the body beside him, bending down to pick up the sword, its blade still covered in blood. He held it, looking at his reflection in the metal.

He knew what he was going to do. In his mind, he held an unshakable certainty in the acts he was beginning to plan. It would take him years, decades maybe. But he would do it. He would find the ones that had betrayed him, those that had worked against him.

And he would have revenge.

Behind the mask, he felt himself begin to smile. Then he laughed. He looked up to the sky, raised both arms, and laughed.

And laughed. And laughed.

And that was when Alice woke up.

* * *

The girl almost jumped out of the bed, a cry escaping her lips as she did so.

"Onee-chan!" Two simultaneous cries of the nickname came from outside as the door to her room burst open. Two young boys, mirror images of each other if not for the colour of their guard uniforms, burst in, their faces the very picture of worry. "What's wrong?" said the one in the red uniform.

Alice collected herself, taking deep breaths as she began to truly wake up. "Nothing, Dum." She said, her voice still a little shaky. "Just a nightmare." If the words had been meant to stop them worrying, it only had the opposite effect. Their brows creased and their frowns deepened. They shared a look, and Tweedle Dum nodded, standing to attention as his blue-uniformed twin, Tweedle Dee, turned and set a pace down the hallway outside.

"Boss told us to inform him if there was another nightmare." Tweedle Dum said.

Alice was confused. "Aren't we at the Clock Tower? Why is Blood here?" Saying this, she realized something. "Come to think of it, why are you two here?"

"We arrived with Boss a few hours ago. He wanted to check on you."

Alice nodded. That certainly sounded like Blood. Though, considering she was in the only neutral area in all of Wonderland and that he himself had agreed to her move here, she found it a bit irritating that he felt the need to continue checking on her.

_He probably doesn't trust Julius much._ Alice thought._ Then again, I don't think there's anyone outside the Mansion he trusts very much._ In fact, it was a clear sign of how much he'd changed that he'd even thought of allowing her outside of his territory. Especially with her late night shocks.

She heard footsteps outside the door, and Tweedle Dee appeared at the edge of the door frame. "Onee-chan, Boss and Julius are waiting in the lounge downstairs. Are you okay to walk?"

Alice nodded. The period of shaking she'd usually experienced after the nightmares had gotten shorter since the first time. "Give me a moment to get my night robe on." They nodded and Tweedle Dum stepped outside, closing the door and giving her some privacy. She climbed out of bed and felt around for her gown, thinking about how all this had started.

The first nightmare had been almost three weeks ago, five months after her decision to stay in Wonderland. She had woken up screaming and covered in a cold sweat. She had only just gotten herself together when Blood and the Twins had burst in, weapons aimed in various directions, searching for a kidnapper or assassin. It was only after an hour of calming gestures and her constant insistence that she was fine that they finally left her to herself, by which point it was nearly time for morning and there wasn't any point in going back to sleep.

After that, the nightmares had come every night. She could never remember what had happened in them, the details slipping from her mind quicker than she could recover enough to stop them. All she could remember were a few vague aspects. Rain. Blood. Laughter.

After a few night of bursting in and finding no danger, the inhabitants of the Hatter Mansion were beginning to become tired of it. Then they started worrying, finding the constant nature of the nightmares odd and ominous. Eventually, and with great hesitance, they had called Nightmare to ask if he had anything to do with it.

At which point he had looked puzzled and asked something that chilled everyone: "Alice has been having bad dreams?"

Ever since then, Nightmare had been checking in every night at the Mansion and every time Alice awoke from her nightmares confirmed that he had not sensed anything. This puzzled everyone. Nightmare Gottschalk claimed to be the embodiment of bad dreams, and could always sense when someone in Wonderland was having one. He'd even caused a few himself, when he was bored enough.

So why couldn't he sense the ones Alice was having, despite being little more than ten metres away?

Eventually, after almost three weeks, Bloodhad suggested a change in location, something that Nightmarehad agreed to. After much debate, it was decided on the Clock Tower, hoping that its neutrality would help.

Evidently, it had not.

And now, here she was, sitting in the small, well-furnished lounge on one of the Tower's lower floors. It was not a large room, nor was it tall, but it was comfortable, warmed by the soft light of a fairly-sized fireplace. Bookshelves covered the wall opposite the fireplace, lined with books that, on closer inspection, all turned out to be about clocks, in one way or another. A grandfather clock stood off to the side, quietly ticking away, though the hands never seemed to move.

She sat on a high backed leather chair next to the fire, sipping a cup of tea that Julius had prepared for her. On another, identical chair, opposite to her, sat Blood Dupré. The mafia boss had been her host in Wonderland since her decision to stay, but every once and a while, his neck-length black hair and green eyes would remind her of her cheating ex-boyfriend, which irritated her to no end.

The Hatter was nothing like the boy who'd run off with her sister. He could be cruel, yes, and they had initially hated each other. But, she was indebted to him, and not just because he'd offered her a place to stay. He'd been the one who'd saved her from Ace and help her make the decision on whether to stay in Wonderland or not.

In all her time in Wonderland so far, Alice had never seen worry in the expression of Blood Dupré. Usually, his expression was one of amusement that never seemed to go away. Now that amusement _was_ gone, almost as if it had never been, replaced with a creased brow and thin lips as he look down at the wooden floorboards. His hands were clasped in front of him, almost hiding his deep frown. Since she had entered the room he had avoided her gaze, and now it was beginning to unnerve her.

"Blood?" The sound of his name broke him out of his thoughts. He looked up at her, but he seemed to be putting effort into meeting her eyes. When he finally did, she saw the concern that had rooted itself into them. "Blood, it's just nightmares. They'll go away eventually, right?"

Blood's frown deepened. "Normally, I would believe that." He paused. "But, all things considered, I don't think it's going to stop anytime soon."

Now it was Alice's turn to frown. "Why's that?"

Blood leaned back into his chair. "Dreams are an intrinsic part of Wonderland. The time that can be remembered, but was never spent. When the world is only limited by the imagination."

"That sounds a lot like Wonderland itself." Alice observed.

"That's because it is." Blood replied. "The very idea of Wonderland is that it is where dreams can be reality. Where you can do whatever you want and you won't be punished for it." He took a sip from the cup of tea on the table beside him. "But there are rules."

Alice nodded. She was aware of the rules, but no-one had ever really explained them to her.

"Those rules are pretty basic and amount to a single, binding law: Don't do anything to interrupt the dream." He explained. "Any kind of interference that would ruin the dream, and in doing so create a nightmare, is prohibited."

Alice raised an eyebrow. "I can think of plenty of times where that's already happened."

Blood smiled at that, which irritated her somewhat. "Ah, but Alice…" He said, in a playful voice that was a startling contrast to the seriousness of his previous tone. "At any of those times, did you really think you were going to die?"

Alice opened her mouth to protest, but hesitated. She couldn't think of a single time when she had been in danger without one of the Role Holders with her. Except perhaps when Ace had cornered her in the Prison, but Blood had appeared rather quickly then, and she wasn't at all sure that Ace had really wanted to kill her.

"You see?" The Hatter continued upon seeing her hesitation. "At all times, the rules have been satisfied." Then the smile melted off again and frown returned. "But these nightmares are another story."

"Are you saying that they break the rules?" Alice asked.

"I'm not saying that, and that's what worries me." Blood clasped his hands again. "They don't worry me because they _break_ the rules. They worry me because they _circumvent_ the rules."

"What?" Alice said, putting down her tea. "What do you mean?"

At that moment, the door to the lounge opened with a quiet creak, revealing a man with long, dark-blue hair tied into a ponytail. His long black and gold coat, left open in the middle to reveal a black necktie and a clock that hung from it, covered a dark yellow t-shirt and black pants. Julius looked at Alice as he spoke. "What he means to say is that there are no rules for something like this."

"No rules?" Alice asked as Julius stepped fully into the room, closing the door behind him. "I don't understand."

"To be precise," Julius pulled up a smaller, wooden chair to sit on. "The rules prohibit anyone interfering with the dream-like outlook the people of Wonderland have. Anyone that does is sent straight to the Prison." Julius looked into the fireplace, contemplating. "However, what we have here is a special case."

"Why?" Alice still couldn't wrap her head around this.

"Because no-one is causing this." Blood said, simply. "At least, as far as we know."

When Alice just stared at them blankly, Julius continued. "At any other time that the rules have been broken, someone has been to blame. Someone else has made things seem like a nightmare." Julius looked back at Alice. "This time, though, things are different."

"Because we don't know if something is causing my nightmares?"

"That's right." Blood said. "Frankly, we don't know what to do about this. Nightmare has no idea what's going on and there's no-one else in Wonderland who could be causing this."

"So, what now?" Alice asked. "I just keep having nightmares?"

"Honestly, I can't see any other option." To his credit, Blood didn't look at all happy with this outcome. "You can continue staying at the Clock Tower if you wish, or you can come back to the Hatter Mansion."

Alice nodded. "I'll think about it."

"Very well." Blood drank the last of his tea. "Julius, how long until the next time turn?"

"About an hour or two." Julius replied. They both stood up. "Are you heading back?"

"I might as well. It's not like I'm welcome here, right?" Blood gave Julius a sly grin, and Alice could've sworn she saw the clockmaker's eye twitch. "I'll see you soon, Alice. Take care." The Hatter turned back to look at the Clockmaker. "After all, Julius does get terribly lonely. Who knows what he'd do." He chuckled at the slight glare Julius sent his way as the mafia boss left. Julius waited for the door to click shut before gritting his teeth.

"Sometimes I want to strangle that arrogant bastard." Julius snarled.

Alice just giggled nervously.

* * *

After a few minutes of quiet conversation, the time came for Julius to begin his duties for the day. He informed Alice of this, and she decided to stay in the lounge for a bit and read from his vast collection. He had nodded and soon left.

Now, he sat in his workshop, tinkering with the latest in the long line of broken clocks sent to him every day. The violent nature of the Role Holders, coupled with their contempt when dealing with Faceless, ensured that Julius always had plenty of work to do. Still, he enjoyed it. The regularity allowed him to ponder on things, something that he had begun to do even more since learning of Alice's predicament.

However, even he had his share of visitors and it wasn't long until he gained some company. He sensed the presence of his visitor almost immediately, and since he hadn't heard a door open…

"Hello, Nightmare." Julius said, without looking up. "Come to check on Alice?"

"You know me well." The voice of Nightmare Gottschalk, as always sounding faintly amused, came from the seat opposite him. "How is she?"

Julius placed the clock he was working on back down with a sigh. "She's had another nightmare." He looked up just in time to see the smile fade from the Caterpillar's face. His brow furrowed above his uncovered left eye, the other hidden behind a black eye-patch. "She's reading in the study now, if you'd like to see her."

Nightmare shook his head. "It won't make any difference. Besides, I can tell there's something else bothering you besides Alice's mysterious dreams, isn't there?"

Julius opened his mouth to disagree, but hesitated. There had been something else rather strange happening lately. "So you've noticed too?"

At this, Nightmare gave a knowing nod. "The time turns." He said simply, looking out of the small window to his right. "They've been going in order for the last week. Dawn, Day, Dusk, Night and then back to Dawn again." The Dream-maker looked at Julius curiously. "Have you started getting bored, Julius?"

Julius looked back down at the broken clock on his desk. "It's not that." He looked back at Nightmare. "You remember that I have the power to change the time just by firing my pistol?" The other Role Holder nodded. "The other day, I didn't have as many clocks to fix, so I decided to take the chance and sleep in." Nightmare seemed surprised by this, but didn't say anything. "Well, when it turned to Dawn, I raised my gun and fired to extend the night. However…"

"The time turn didn't change?" Nightmare asked, now listening with rapt attention.

Julius nodded, his pocket-watch earring swinging slightly as he did so. "So I tried again. Nothing. I got up and fired out of the window. Still nothing. The time turn didn't happen. And when it did, it became Day, which is not what I asked for." Julius crossed his arms. "And that's how it's been for the last week. The only good thing is that I've been able to track when the time turns occur."

Nightmare took a moment to think this over. "Yet another thing to worry about. What do you think's causing it?"

"I'm the only person in Wonderland who controls the time turns." Julius picked up his wrench, the tool transforming into his pistol. "Even if someone were to take this from me and fire it themselves, it wouldn't work. It's not possible for someone else to do this." The gun turned back into a wrench and Julius slipped it into his belt. "However, it was equally impossible for someone to have a nightmare outside of your knowledge, wasn't it?"

"At least this way, Ace won't get lost as easily." Nightmare joked. "Which is good, considering how busy he's been lately."

"Ace has been busy?"

The Caterpillar nodded. "Vivaldi's been sending him out towards the border towns a lot lately. I haven't been able to figure out why though." He crossed his arms. "I asked him about it last week, but he wouldn't say anything." He sighed. "He didn't seem as cheery either."

"That must be why I haven't seen him much lately." Julius sat back, raising his hand to hold his chin in thought. "He's been leaving me broken clocks when I'm not around, usually at night. I thought it was strange." He shrugged. "I suppose there's nothing we can do about it."

"I suppose." Nightmare was quiet for a moment. "Well, I'd better be going. You gonna be here all day?"

"Unless Alice need to be escorted anywhere during the day, I'll be here." Julius picked the broken clock back up and began to tinker again. "Tell me if anything else comes up." Nightmare nodded and in the blink of an eye he disappeared. Julius closed his eyes for a moment and sighed.

He had a lot to ponder about today.

* * *

Nightmare stepped into thin air.

In front of him was a tunnel of mirrors, each one presenting a view of a part of Wonderland. A clearing in the forest. A hallway in the Castle of Hearts. The entrance to the Circus. And behind Nightmare was an image of Julius' workshop, where one could see the clockmaker had continued working.

This was the Looking Glass Network.

Access to the Network was awarded to only a privileged few within Wonderland. In fact, Nightmare knew of only one other in this Game who could, though that one did not employ this skill nearly as often as he did.

The fact was, this series of magical tunnels, spread throughout the whole of Wonderland, were Nightmare's main mode of transportation. He had little time for walking and just flying everywhere was tedious and tended to attract attention.

So instead, he used the Network. Each mirror lead to whatever part of Wonderland was contained in its frame. It was this way that Nightmare could enter anywhere he wanted. It also allowed him to keep tabs on the other Role Holders. After all, he needed to keep up with the times, and to do that, he would need to know everyone's dirty little secrets.

No-one was happy about it, but Nightmare didn't really care.

And so he did as he always would. He began to walk over the chessboard floor tiles, glancing at the mirrors either side of him, not really looking for anything in particular. He passed the clock tower study, noting Alice appeared to have left to explore. He spotted the Joker at the circus, twirling around in some sort of practice routine. Nightmare then gave a hiss of irritation as Joker turned and gave a smug grin in Nightmare's direction, as if he could see him. He moved on.

He immediately noted he was approaching the amusement park when he began to see images of the various attractions, the bright multi-coloured lights de-activated for the night. He decided to speed through here. He dreaded passing Gowland practising his violin, which he most certainly was doing.

It was at that moment he decided to glance left. He then looked forward. Then he stopped. He backed up. Then, he looked left again.

In front of him was nothing. Well, not _literally_ nothing. There was the same simply-designed mirror frame and glass that was present all along the hallway. But instead of the images that were present in them, there was a black void of nothingness. No sound emanated from it either.

This was odd. _Very _odd_._ There was a light at the end of every tunnel. That was the purpose of the Looking Glass Network. And yet, here before him was the end of a tunnel with nothing beyond it. It was very unlikely that one of the exits to the Network was underground, or the area it exited into had somehow been built onto. The former case was impossible, while in the latter case the mirror would have moved.

Nightmare spent a moment considering the impossibility that was before him. After a moment, he decided he did what he normally did. He activated his magic and its tendrils reached out to touch the glass.

In one instant, a pure sensation of indescribable _power_ surged into him. His magic was dispelled in the same instant, and he doubled over as if punched in the gut.

He staggered back, reaching out a hand to steady himself. In doing so, he touched the mirror behind him, an image of the air above the amusement park.

In the next moment, he was falling.

* * *

Boris Airay had decided to take a stroll that evening.

He'd done this for two reasons. First and foremost, Gowland was practising, though it wasn't really 'practice' so much as it was 'torturing every non-deaf person within audio range.'

Secondly, Boris rather enjoyed night-time at the Amusement Park, though he did not make a habit of informing others of this. The darkened attractions and quiet streets, a stark contrast to the noise and brightness of most nights, was oddly peaceful. The crowds provided some fun, he could admit, but even the playful Cheshire Cat needed some peace and quiet every once and a while.

He walked through the Park, slowly taking in the night air. He looked towards the dark sky. The night was calm, perfect for star gazing. And with the lights of the Park turned off, he could see them clearly.

Though, in the years to come, he would begin to wonder how he managed to miss the fact that Nightmare was heading right for him. At least, until the incubus collided with him.

There was a lot of tumbling and tangled limbs as they rolled to a stop. Luckily they'd rolled away from each other, so there wouldn't be any embarrassing situations tonight, thank you very much. Still, Boris was on his feet, walking quickly to Nightmare to get him on his feet.

"Nightmare?" Boris said, kneeling besides the man lying face down on the ground. "Hey, you okay?"

Nightmare moved his hands to push himself up onto his knees, and Boris noted he was shaking. Once in a good sitting position, he winced, seemingly in pain, and clutched at his stomach. "What the hell?" He grunted.

"Hey, what the heck happened?" Boris asked. "You forget how to fly or something?"

"It's not that." Nightmare gritted his teeth as he stood up, but he couldn't stop a groan of pain from escaping. Boris was getting worried. "Something… happened."

"Yeah, I guessed that." The cat deadpanned, putting his hands on his hips, the chain hanging from his collar to his jacket pocket jangling. "I need details."

"The Network." Those two words were all Boris needed to start truly worrying. "Something's wrong with it. There was an exit to nowhere and when I touched it, it dispelled my powers."

"Dispelled your- But that's not possible!" Boris said in disbelief.

"Not possible… I've been hearing those words a lot lately." Nightmare had recovered slightly by now, no longer hunched over, but his arm hadn't lowered itself from his side. "The bad dreams, the time turns, and now…"

He raised his other hand and Boris recognised the movement. "Um… Maybe you shouldn't do that so-" But it was too late. Nightmare tapped the air, the basic action to summon a door into the Looking Glass Network.

But instead of a door, there was a bright flash that blinded Boris temporarily. Nightmare pulled away, as if burnt, and he cried out in pain. When the after-image has faded from Boris' eyes, he saw Nightmare on his hands and knees, coughing up blood.

The consumptive action was normal for Nightmare, but the fact that he had collapsed in such a way was not. Boris rushed to his side, moving to help him get up and moving. "What the heck was that?"

Nightmare wheezed, short of breath. "The… the Network." He gasped between breaths. "I… I can't access it. Something… cut me… off."

Boris was speechless. Nightmare was the person who best knew how to operate the Looking Glass Network. He was _the_ expert. That was why he used it so freely. If _he_ was unable to access it, only something _very _powerful could be responsible.

"Boris…" Nightmare said, as if something had just occurred to him. "Have you been able to use it lately?"

Ah. With all his thought focused on Nightmare, he'd forgotten that he was the only other person in Wonderland who could access the Network. He almost never used it though. "I haven't needed to in a while." He turned his head slightly towards the other Role Holder. "Should I try?"

"No." Nightmare wheezed. "If it was able to affect me in such a way, there's no telling what it could do to you."

Normally, Boris would take this as an insult. His magical ability wasn't _that_ bad. Being able to access the Network _at all_ was a challenge in itself. But tonight, Boris had his mind on other things. "Come on." He said. "Let's get you to Gowland. See what he thinks."

Nightmare nodded, and the two slowly walked through the empty park, their minds trying to puzzle out the mysteries that had presented themselves in recent days.

* * *

_Show me, Mask of Tragedy_

_Show me what I want to see_

The night was quiet in Wonderland, unaware of the dramas that played out across the country. The moon was not particularly bright or prominent, at least not any more than any other night, and the stars shone as they normally did. In all fairness, there was no reason for anyone to look outside or watch the stars.

_I see a country, down beneath_

_Caught in a cycle that will not cease._

Perhaps that was why no-one saw the lone figure, standing upon the highest point at the top of the Clock Tower. No-one saw it look out over the width and breadth of the Country of Hearts below. Perhaps this is what it intended. Perhaps this night had been perfect for it to do so.

_With clocks that never will be whole_

_They continue on their pointless roles_

No-one could have known the series of events that would begin with this figure's appearance in this land, at this time. After years of planning and subtle up to this moment.

_Their lives are dead and empty and cold_

_They'll never know what tomorrow holds._

In the pale moonlight, it moved, drawing out a long, shining sword, drawing its hands across the metal, looking down at the faint reflection. Yes, it was time.

_But I have seen what's round the bend_

His mind turned to the coming days, a whisper escaped his lips.

"Today, this little game will end."

As the whisper went unheard, quietly echoing into the night, the figure disappeared.


End file.
